A Brother's Love
by DevlinV1
Summary: [FIN:2003:Hardycest] Severed from Jeff and Amy, Matt Hardy has been slowly falling deeper and deeper into a pit of self induced despair. Can he find a way out before he completely loses his mind?


**A Brother's Love**

**By Archangel**

Matt looked at himself in the mirror. He stared intensely at his own face. He was paler than usual under the harsh fluorescent lighting. He looked at his full face, his angular chin, his pointed nose, his chocolate brown eyes, and his curling black hair with a fierce expression. He searched for something. He was trying to find something. Finally his features softened and melted into the look that was always with him when he wasn't in public. Sorrow took over the handsome face.

"I can't see it anymore," he muttered to himself. "Where am I? Where's Matt Hardy?"

He had been like this for quite a while, the past few months getting progressively worse. He felt lost. There was no one to guide him out of the darkness that was taking him over. Not that the feelings were anything new. It had begun long ago. About two or three years ago, he couldn't remember exactly. It had all gone wrong.

"Jeff…"

The Hardy Boyz had broken up. Matt had gone one way and Jeff the other. Lita had been stuck in the middle, but had followed neither of them. Matt lost his brother and his lover that day. He had told them both about the transfer, expecting to very separate reactions. He had gotten precisely what he'd thought from Jeff. Anger and sadness, betrayal. Jeff had stalked off without saying goodbye. Lita, however, had given Matt nothing he had hoped for. He asked her to come along. She said no. She refused to follow him no matter how much she loved him. She had walked after Jeff. When she was gone Matt had stood alone in 'the Hall' staring down at what he had been clenching in his hand the whole time. The diamond ring sparkled like a star in the night sky as he dropped it to the floor and left 'the Hall' forever.

That had been only the beginning. Matt bravely forced himself forward into the Smackdown lifestyle. He was completely alone, but he had plans. He knew what he had to do. Now that he and Jeff were completely separate he had to start over. He had to discover who Matt Hardy really was. He didn't realize that he already knew the answer to that. He changed his style, changed his attitude, and changed his friends. He defined himself and became something that he thought was so much greater than simply being the elder half of the Hardy Boyz. He became Matt Hardy Version 1. And with it came his own views and opinions that had never been voiced before. He developed a style all his own and labeled it Mattitude. While Lita was getting injured and Jeff was leaving the business, Matt brought on his first new friend.

Shannon Moore had known Matt all his life. The two had been great friends through childhood. Matt knew Shannon had incredible talent and potential and he did his best to give him all the help he could. He taught Shannon his ways. He formed him slowly into precisely what he wanted him to be. In many ways, Shannon became the little brother that Matt had lost. But when it came time for Shannon to perform on his own with Matt only able to watch, Matt realized that Shannon was not all he had hoped for. Shannon lost. So Matt punished him for it. He drilled it into the boy's head that losing was not an option. Even when Crash Holly had come into the team Matt was still unsatisfied. He knew Crash, for all the affection Matt felt for him, would never live up to the Mattitude standards.

Then, just as before, everything fell apart around him. Crash left. Shannon left. And Matt was left all alone again. As if to add to his injuries Crash later died. Matt mourned his friend for so long, wishing he could see that face again, wishing he could be called 'Boss' again. Then there was still Shannon. The boy continued on with all of his Mattributes as if he had any right to do so. He looked like a little blond Version 1, with the exception that he lost more than he won.

Finally Matt couldn't handle the loneliness any longer. He needed familiarity. He needed some justification for everything that he had done. He needed to know that he wasn't the only one who was alone. He thought about Lita for the first time in so long. She had healed and returned to Raw. Matt knew what he had to do. He talked to the necessary people and got his transfer. Matt is Raw once again. But the very first moment he laid eyes on Lita's lovely face he knew he couldn't go through with his original plans. He had wanted nothing more than to hold her, to kiss her, and to gaze into her eyes so filled with love. His first sight of her only served to remind him of how she had abandoned him. How she had refused him. And he remembered the engagement ring that she had never seen. It infuriated him. The next thing he knew he was doing all that he could to hurt her. He wanted her to feel as he had in 'the Hall' when she had walked away from him. He needed more than justice. He needed revenge.

But even though each show he would fight with all of his rage and determination he would come back to his hotel room every night to absorb the silence and emptiness. He could feel himself growing colder and colder. No amount of heat, blankets, of layers of clothing could warm him anymore. He couldn't shake the feeling of utter hopelessness that filled his heart. Nothing brought him happiness. Not even going into the ring could make a smile cross his lips.

He realized he was still staring into the mirror. He looked into the face that he barely recognized anymore. The depression was taking its toll. He had purple circles under his eyes, he was pale, and his mouth was starting to turn into a permanent frown. The more he stared the more he began to feel something. For the first time since he had transferred back to Raw he had emotion. He was angry again. His brow furrowed. He saw a face he recognized then. It was Version 1. This face he knew all too well. Version 1 was filled with hatred. It was all he could feel.

He lashed out one clenched fist and the reflection shattered, falling to the bathroom counter in a shower of silver shards. He looked at the blood trickling over his knuckles for a moment. He put one to his mouth to suck on it, gnawing on his flesh to bring forth more pain and more blood. It made him feel better. He wanted blood, violence. He wanted pain.

He was walking down the hall towards the room at the very end. Room number 820 had a do not disturb sign hanging from the doorknob. He pressed his ear to the door to listen for a moment. Not a sound. He turned the knob, but it didn't move. That small fact only fueled the flames burning inside and he pulled back, kicking out as if he were a black belt. The door frame splintered and the door hit the wall. A scream from within, but once Lita saw him she calmed down. He barged in, slamming the door behind him, making a beeline for her. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her as hard as his strength would allow.

"Do you even realize what you did to me? Can you see what you've done?" he yelled into her face, grabbing her chin in one hand to force to look at him. "Look at me! Do you see the pain? Can you see me? Do you even recognize me anymore? This isn't the face of Matt Hardy! This is a stranger. I can't even see myself in the mirror anymore because of you!"

"Matt, stop! Let go of me!"

"No! I let go of you once already! I let you walk away from me in 'the Hall' and you never came back! I was ready to give you everything I had. I was ready to slip that ring on your finger and beg you to stay with me, but you said no and walked away. You walked after him! You followed Jeff instead and left me all alone!"

"What are you talking about! What ring? Matt, please, stop! You're getting hysterical!"

She was right. Even with all the rage that was flowing through him, tears were coursing down his face. He could feel their warmth and taste the salt upon his lips. He held her face in his hands, stopping to look at her, stare into her eyes. He felt nothing for her. Try as he might he could feel no sorrow, no hatred, not even longing or desire. She wasn't the cause. It wasn't her fault that he was like this.

"Dear god, Amy. Help me! I came here with the intention to kill you. I wanted to snap your neck with my bare hands! I was so mad and so desperate. I think I'm losing my mind. I need something. There's something missing and I'm searching so desperately to find it, but all I find is more fear and loneliness. I can't feel anything anymore!" He fell to his knees, pulling her to the floor with him. He buried his face in her wild red hair and clung to her. "I thought that when I saw you I would feel better. I thought that I'd feel anger, sadness, or at least some sort of loathing. I don't feel anything. But it scares me. Dear god I'm so scared, Amy. I'm losing it. I'm falling into a blackness where there's no escape. It's like when Jeff was so depressed after we lost Mom. I just don't want to go on."

He finally could put forth nothing intelligible. His sobs broke his voice and tore from his throat with each harsh convulsion of his body. He trembled and shook, clinging to Amy as if she were the only thing in the world holding him there. He felt that he would fall without her support. He stayed there for a long time, crying and wailing in agony, finally releasing everything he had been feeling for years. It did little to soothe him. He only ended up exhausted, barely able to follow her lead as she guided him into bed. He was asleep before she even covered him with the sheet.

He was awoken from wondrous dreams of his childhood. He had been so happy and carefree, doing anything he pleased without care. Someone had been by his side at all times, holding his hand and leading him into utter joy. But the knocking on the door persisted. He opened his eyes, but had no strength to even raise his hand. He saw Amy rise from a chair beside the bed. Slowly his memory cleared and he remembered what happened the night prior. He had completely broken down in front of her. Embarrassment flooded him. He groaned quietly and pulled the sheet over his face. He had never wanted anything like this to happen. He had thought himself stronger than this.

A hand touched his shoulder and shook him slightly. He blinked under the sheet. The hand was much larger and stronger than Amy's. His first thought was that is was Vince McMahon or Eric Bischoff coming to see that Matt Hardy had truly gone crazy.

"Matty, are you awake?"

The voice was muffled by the sheet, but it couldn't have been more familiar. Matt instantly shoved the sheets down and stared in utter shock into his brother's face. He had never seen a more beautiful sight in all his life.

"Jeff! Oh my god, Jeff, you're here!"

Before he even knew what he was doing he had thrown his arms around his brother and pulled him down onto the bed. He clung to Jeff's lean form for the first time since the Hardy Boyz had broken up. He could feel Jeff's hands threading through his mussed hair and rubbing his back.

"Matty, why didn't you call me? You could've just told me, Matt, and I would've come running. You didn't have to do everything alone."

"She told you? Amy told you everything that she knows?"

"She told me you wanted to kill her. She said you couldn't do it, though, because you felt nothing for her. And she said you were lonely and sad and wanted to die." Jeff pulled back to look into Matt's face. "Is that true, Matty?"

"Look for yourself, Jeffro."

Jeff blinked, but a second later his fingers were tugging off the tape and elbow pads that Matt never took off. He gasped at what he saw. Matt's arms were covered in cuts, long and deep, forming horrifying patterns on both sides of each limb. The most recent were directly down the middle of his wrists and stood out with an obvious purpose. Jeff laid the lightest of kisses upon each fresh wound before pulling Matt back into his arms.

"I can barely believe any of this. It's like some sort of nightmare. You could've called me. I would've come. I wouldn't have asked any questions. I wouldn't have said no."

"I didn't think you ever wanted to see me again. After I left I thought you'd never speak to me again."

"Huh?" Jeff pulled back to look at him again. "Why would I not want to speak to you? You were angry with me remember?"

"What? I wasn't angry with you."

Jeff leaned up on one elbow, staring down at him intensely. Matt stared back at him, his eyes wandering over Jeff's face. His brother had changed. His jaw was more defined, his cheeks void of the childish fullness and revealing high cheekbones like his own. His always angry looking brows were still the same. His brilliant green eyes remained unchanged. Except now utter confusion filled them.

"Matt, are you sure you're remembering things right?"

"I can barely remember any of it anymore. I didn't know why we were fighting when it all happened."

Jeff's eyes went wide now. "You don't know! You don't remember!"

"Jeff, I'm going insane! Can't you see that! I was going to kill Amy yesterday! My memories are all foggy and scattered! I could barely remember what you even looked like!"

"Okay, okay. Calm back down." Jeff soothed him and stroked his hair. "Do you want me to tell you why we broke up?"

"Yes. I need to know."

"Okay. Just know that once you remember, you may not want me to be here anymore."

"No, Jeff. I want you with me more than anything. I missed you so much."

"Okay, well let me tell you. You and I had gotten a hotel room that had a large hot tub in a cramped little bathroom. When we got back from the show that night the first thing we did was strip down and get straight into it. You turned it up as hot as we could stand and sat next to me in the bubbles and jets. We sat there together in the water, steam rolling around us, your arm around my shoulders, your bare hip touching mine…" He trailed off and bit his lips nervously. "Do you remember any of this?"

"It sounds familiar. Please, go on."

Jeff frowned slightly and cleared his throat, sitting up next to him. "Well, we were just sitting there. Enjoying the heat and the massaging streams of water. We were so sore. It had been another rough ladder match. And I was so tired that you let me lie my head on your chest. But then I had to ruin it. I ruined everything with just one little movement."

"What'd you do accidently touch my thigh?" Matt smirked.

Jeff didn't smile back. Seeing his somber expression Matt pushed himself up to look him square in the eye. There was a blush on Jeff's cheeks. He wouldn't meet Matt's gaze.

"No. Something much worse. I looked up at you, seeing you with your eyes closed and your hair falling around your face. Sweat was beading up on your forehead. And with the steam surrounding us you just looked absolutely stunning. I reached up to your face," he gingerly raised his hand and cupped Matt's chin, "and turned you towards me. You looked at me like you were confused. I didn't let you say anything. I kissed you. I kissed your lips. Not like a man should kiss his brother in the rare instances that it's deemed acceptable. I kissed you like you were my lover."

Matt's eyes widened as the scene suddenly appeared in his head. He remembered it all in vivid clarity. Jeff's blue hair wet and plastered to his cheek, the noise of the motor that controlled the tub, the sweat and steam. He could feel Jeff's body against his own and the feelings it made him have. He remembered the hand upon his chin and the lips upon his own. He remembered the fear, the panic, confusion, love, and desire. But he also remembered what he had done afterwards.

"Oh god…" he whispered, grasping Jeff's hand.

"You let me kiss you. I think you may have even kissed back just a little, I don't remember it perfectly. But when I pulled away you looked at me as if I were the most vile and disgusting thing to have ever walked the earth. You pulled away, got out of the tub, and left. By the time I had the nerve to come out of the bathroom you had packed your bag and changed rooms. Next thing I heard from you was that we were going to be feuding and breaking up. They told me it had all been your idea."

"Oh god Jeff. I'm so sorry. I completely forgot all of it."

"I can't blame you really. Having your little brother kiss you would be traumatic I guess. You blocked it out."

"I brought this all upon myself."

Jeff looked up at him then. "What do you mean?"

"All this time I've been longing for you. Missing you. And I thought that you were mad at me and that you'd never speak to me. I drove myself completely crazy with loneliness and regret. And it turns out it was really all my fault. That must've been why it took such a toll on my mind. Somehow I knew I was the guilty one."

"What are you talking about? I kissed you, Matty. It's my fault that I drove you away."

"But that's not why I left you there like that. I can remember it all now. I left because I didn't want you to love me like that. I didn't want you to be stuck with someone like me, brother or otherwise."

Jeff shook his head. "Okay you're confusing me."

"When you kissed me the only thing I could think of was that you were so beautiful, so happy, and so full of innocence. And I'm not any of that. I'm a dark, twisted person. I have fantasies about killing people, I get off on causing people pain, and I never feel sorry for the horrible things I do or say. I'm a complete and total prick. That's putting it nicely. And all I could think of was that you deserved to be with someone who'd make you happy, not drag you into darkness."

"Matty, do you think that I don't know all of those things about you? I know some of the sick thoughts that go through your head. I know about the poems and stories you write that are filled with blood."

Matt's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "You've read my stories?"

"I've read your journals, too. What are little brothers for right? I read your journals, stories, poems, everything that you wrote. I even knew about the one time that you were planning on killing me, Dad, and then yourself because you were so depressed. You wanted to be with Mom. You wanted us to be a family again and so you planned everything down to the smallest detail."

"When did you get the chance to do that? I was constantly making sure you stayed away from my stuff."

"You can't protect your things while you're asleep, Matty," he smirked. "I read that plan one evening with a flashlight while you were sleeping peacefully. I read it all. I knew it would work. I knew then that at any moment you saw fit you could kill us all. Do you know what I did after I read that?"

"Hid under your bed and prayed to god that you'd survive till morning?"

"I crawled into bed next to you, pushed myself into your arms, and slept next to you the whole night without a single fear or worry. You held me in your arms and petted me in your sleep."

"You're lucky I guess."

"No, I'm your brother. I knew you'd never ever hurt me or Dad or anyone else. That's why I love you so much, Matt. You have all those thoughts and urges, but also have so much love inside of you that you'll never ever act on them."

"You have no idea how much love I feel for you, Jeff."

"Are you sure?" Matt eyed him suspiciously. "I didn't kiss you only because you're beautiful."

"How could you have known? I never wrote anything about my feelings for you."

"You didn't have to. You told me every night that I would crawl into your bed. You would moan my name in your sleep and run your hands over my body. One time you even kissed my neck. I knew you loved me. I knew from the very beginning."

"My god you were only like ten years old back then."

"I know."

Matt stared at Jeff in shock, coming to the realization that he barely knew his own little brother. Even with all the things that he did know, there was still so much that he didn't. Matt pulled Jeff forward and into his arms, squeezing him tightly.

"You can't leave me again, you know that don't you?"

"I know. I don't want you to snap again."

"I really can't live without you. I can't stand not having you in my life."

"And I can't stand not being able to love you," he whispered.

Matt pulled back just enough to press his lips to Jeff's, finally returning a kiss that had been given years ago. He kissed his little brother with all the passion he'd held back all his life. Somewhere inside of him he could feel the ice melting. He could feel the fires dying. And for the first time since he and Jeff had stood in the ring together he felt love and happiness. He wanted more. He needed to feel like Matt Hardy again. He touched Jeff's lips with the tip of his tongue, being allowed entrance without hesitation. And with each gentle caress of his brother's tongue Matt felt the hatred filled Version 1 die. The need for blood went away. He only wanted tenderness and love for the rest of his life. Finally they parted and the brothers stared at each other with smiles upon their faces.

"There's the Matty I know. There's the sweet smile and the warm brown eyes I missed so much."

At hearing those words Matt got up, walking to the bathroom. Out of curiosity Jeff followed and watched from the doorway as Matt leaned in towards the mirror. His eyes scanned over his reflection, his hand lifting to the glass as if touching his own face. He smiled. Then he laughed. His laughter echoed with true joy through the bathroom and out into the rest of the room.

"It's me! It's really me. I'm not dead after all. I can feel!" Matt turned his tear filled eyes to Jeff. "All I needed was you. All along I needed my brother's love."

Jeff didn't get exactly what Matt meant by all of that, but he smiled anyway.

**The End**

_Legalities: Matt Hardy, Jeff Hardy, Lita, and any other mentioned characters are property of World Wrestling Entertainment. I claim no knowledge of each of the characters sexual preferences or lives. This is a story of fiction, none of these events are real. I received absolutely no profit from this story._


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